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Yo Gotti - Fuck You Lyrics

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Yo Gotti - Fuck You Lyrics
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[ Featuring Meek Mill ]

F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you (tell a hater I said)
F*ck you, f*ck you (pussy)
F*ck you, f*ck you (tell your bitch I said)

Me
Ass up, face down
One night only, I'm from out of town
Pound, new rules we ain't waiting on it
And if that pussy good we spend a cake on it
Plane ticket, hotel, new bag, new Chanel
Giuseppe sneakers, his and hers
If you a hater I just got two words

F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you (tell a hater I said)
F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you (and tell your bitch I said)

You, and the bitches that you came with
All in my section drinking my shit
You ain't f*cking, you ain't sucking what you doing ho?
Instagram and taking pictures, but you don't know me though
Damn, she said that she a fan
Yea I understand, but I want to get in her pants
'Cause she thick as f*ck and she sticking her tongue out
She said she don't f*ck with rappers
And I'm like what you talking about bitch?

F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you (I got two words for you)
F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you (tell a hater I said)

Oh, I said f*ck 'em
I don't like 'em, I don't love 'em
When the money come
Homies turn to haters, I don't trust 'em
If the brick ain't coming with a stamp, I don't touch it
I want that BMF with the Scorpio when I'm bustin'
Like a bitch when she twerkin', y'all niggas workin'
Clown ass niggas, we should put you in the circus
In the cage with the lion, let him have you for dessert
And testifying on your homie, took a deal, but was it worth it nigga?
I met this bitch, she said "My friend, she want to f*ck you"
I like your friend, but really though, I wanna f*ck you
And if I get my roadie though, he gotta to f*ck too
Now put your middle fingers up and scream

(Ho, ho!) haters, nigga mad at the paper
Big crib, ten cars, twenty acres
Twenty chains, ten watches, I'm a jeweler
Lil' watch with the jest, don't let it fool you
I could school you on how to look like money
Hustler of the year, could write a book 'bout money
Don't pop them bottles tryna impress them hoes
With your re-up money better tell them hoes, bitch

F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you (tell a bitch I said)
F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you (tell a hater I said)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you (tell a hater I said)
F*ck you, f*ck you (pussy)
F*ck you, f*ck you (tell your bitch I said)

Me
Ass up, face down
One night only, I'm from out of town
Pound, new rules we ain't waiting on it
And if that pussy good we spend a cake on it
Plane ticket, hotel, new bag, new Chanel
Giuseppe sneakers, his and hers
If you a hater I just got two words

F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you (tell a hater I said)
F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you (and tell your bitch I said)

You, and the bitches that you came with
All in my section drinking my shit
You ain't f*cking, you ain't sucking what you doing ho?
Instagram and taking pictures, but you don't know me though
Damn, she said that she a fan
Yea I understand, but I want to get in her pants
'Cause she thick as f*ck and she sticking her tongue out
She said she don't f*ck with rappers
And I'm like what you talking about bitch?

F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you (I got two words for you)
F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you (tell a hater I said)

Oh, I said f*ck 'em
I don't like 'em, I don't love 'em
When the money come
Homies turn to haters, I don't trust 'em
If the brick ain't coming with a stamp, I don't touch it
I want that BMF with the Scorpio when I'm bustin'
Like a bitch when she twerkin', y'all niggas workin'
Clown ass niggas, we should put you in the circus
In the cage with the lion, let him have you for dessert
And testifying on your homie, took a deal, but was it worth it nigga?
I met this bitch, she said "My friend, she want to f*ck you"
I like your friend, but really though, I wanna f*ck you
And if I get my roadie though, he gotta to f*ck too
Now put your middle fingers up and scream

(Ho, ho!) haters, nigga mad at the paper
Big crib, ten cars, twenty acres
Twenty chains, ten watches, I'm a jeweler
Lil' watch with the jest, don't let it fool you
I could school you on how to look like money
Hustler of the year, could write a book 'bout money
Don't pop them bottles tryna impress them hoes
With your re-up money better tell them hoes, bitch

F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you (tell a bitch I said)
F*ck you, f*ck you
F*ck you, f*ck you (tell a hater I said)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Mario Mims, Marco Antonio Jr Rodriguez Diaz, William Leonard Roberts
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
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